Jet Black Heart
by Guardian Halinski
Summary: When Derek finds out some life changing problems, how can he fix the mistakes he has made? Can he ever make Stiles fall in love with him all over again or is it a lost cause? Sorry! I suck at summaries. Sterek! StilesxDerek
1. The News

Disclaimer-I do not own any of the characters in Teen Wolf. I only own the plot.

I have had humongous amounts of help from Onxyia99. A big shoutout to her.

I am aiming to make this a longish story with updates once a week. Please review, favorite or follow. Anything would help so incredibly much. Happy reading!

Lying in bed next to him pleases his inner wolf. His boyfriend of 3 years slept so peacefully. Stiles was beautiful; from his molten-brown eyes all the way to the mole on the side of his neck. Seeing him with his own t-shirt on just seemed to make Derek fall in love with Stiles all over again. A wet liquid fell on Derek's bare chest seemed to cut him out of his trance. His partner's saliva had escaped his mouth, but the wolf didn't mind at all. It was mornings like this he craved. A buzzing sound from his nightstand made Derek roll over and check his phone. It was Deaton. Why would he call at 8 o'clock in the morning? He better pick this call up.

"Derek" a sharp voice said over the line.

"Deaton. Is everything okay?" Derek asked. Something didn't feel right.

"It's best we discuss this in person. When can you see me? The matter is urgent," Deaton practically barked over the phone.

With a quick goodbye, Derek quickly got dressed, gave a quick kiss on Stiles' forehead and left a sticky note on the fridge where the younger man was sure to see it.

Derek had just driven his boyfriend's jeep. Although it was a hunk of junk, it smelled exactly like Stiles. Because of this, he had come to appreciate the jeep almost as much as Stiles himself.

Pulling up to the vet, something felt wrong, making him uneasy. Derek was sure he wasn't here to receive bad news; life had been surprisingly calm lately. Maybe there was another pack in town, or maybe he had found something Stiles would appreciate. His partner had recently been using wolfs-bane to his advantage, so maybe it was just another supply.

Walking to Deaton's office, he was met with a very grim face. This was definitely not a good sign in the slightest.

"Sorry for waking you up this morning, but I've discovered something you might want to know," Derek just nodded, unsure of what to say. "It's obvious to everyone how much you have come to love Stiles, but if I may ask, how's your wolf handling this?" Deaton asked in a very serious manner.

Derek had noticed his wolf wanting to come to the surface. Stiles had became his new anchor to keep it down. It's as if the inner beast wanted to claw out of his chest and howl all night with his mate Stiles. The only problem though; Stiles didn't have a wolf. He was human. Lately when they'd been together, Derek kept feeling urges to sink his teeth into the younger man's neck and turn him, but he knew he wouldn't be forgiven. Turning Stiles was starting to become a bigger problem than he first thought. Derek could keep his inner self to a minimum but lately, it was becoming near impossible.

Alan must have taken Derek's silence as an answer.

"Obviously, you want to turn Stiles. Am I correct?" Derek couldn't meet his emissary's eyes. He assumed he already knew the answer anyway.

"Judging by your lack of response, you nor me will be liking what I have to say." Derek expected the worst but was hoping for the best.

"We both know that your wolf is going to come out soon by the way you and Stiles continue to love one another. You _will_ bite him. You _will_ have him turned into a creature like yourself. This doesn't seem so bad, does it Mr. Hale?" The way Deaton spoke sent shivers down his back. His worst fear of turning Stiles bubbled to the surface, and judging by the man's expression , the vet knew so too.

"I know that you're biggest concern is if he'll even survive the bite. It does tremendous things to your body. Just look at Scott. The once hard working, teenage boy now has all the power in the world. On the other hand, we must look at Paige." Derek felt an old ache come back, hitting him hard.

"She didn't survive. Sorry to say, nor will Stiles." Derek felt his heart shatter. He knew he would accidentally bite Stiles one of these days, but having his worst fear confirmed left him in a stunned silence. He barely caught anything else the emissary said.

"I've been doing a little research. You're blood type is A," Deaton continued without waiting for Derek's approval this time. "Stiles is B. As soon as you bite him, his antibodies will attack the bite straight away. His blood will clot…" As Alan continued to describe every possible thing that would happen to Stiles, Derek felt tears flow down his face.

Hale ran out of the vets office, unable to handle the information anymore. He was going to kill Stiles accidentally, very soon. The bite wouldn't take on Stiles. He would just die like Paige, his very first mistake in life. The wolf now let himself transform and headed for the Beacon Hills Reserve. He didn't know how long nor how far he ran, but when he did look around, he knew exactly where he was. Derek broke down in frantic sobs, knowing exactly why his wolf had brought him here. The area surrounding him looked the exact same as it did in that moment. The moment he fell in love with Stiles Stilinski.

 _It was a large open area, a circle of pine trees, with little flowers dotting the grass. He and Stiles sat in the center, a red and black picnic blanket beneath them. Stiles was blabbering about the latest baseball game, and how disappointed he was with the loss of the Mets. Derek blocked out most of it as he buttered up sandwiches glaring down at the bread. Scott, Allison and Isaac would be coming soon; they were just picking up some last minute snacks from the store. Derek stopped buttering the bread when a sudden silence filled the clearing._

" _Dude, will you stop trying to murder the bread and lighten up for a minute?" Stiles said, looking at Derek._

" _I'm not_ murdering _the bread," he growled._

" _Yes, you are, the other slices nearly have holes in them. Stop stabbing it! Why do you always look like someone died?"_

 _Derek paused, knife halfway to the butter jar. "Maybe because someone did," he muttered, quietly, just loud enough for Stiles to hear._

" _I'm sorry, oh god I didn't mean that- here let's just butter the bread nicely," Stiles started blabbering again, trying to cover up the awkward silence._

 _Derek noticed that Stiles always tried to make him feel better no matter how many times he had smashed the kid into a wall, a steering wheel, you name it. His family had always been such a touchy subject for him. He had lost everyone he loved. Derek looked down at his trembling hands only to see smaller ones reaching over trying to steady them. This human was once again, making sure he was okay. His rough hands were now held by a much softer pair. This relaxed his wolf which surprised and scared the living crap out of him at the same time._

" _Here, let me help,"The younger man's voice spoke"I know how you feel," Stiles continued, "I miss my mum too. Did you know she used to make the best pancakes? She would always stack 'em up, with little blueberries on top and maple syrup. They were the best," Stiles just kept talking, but it was...calming. As he told Derek about his mother, the wolf noticed that his hands had stopped shaking, and for the first time in what must of been ages, he felt relaxed around another person. Even his wolf seemed happy and content._

 _Stiles kept talking, his hands still on Derek's, as he gently helped the man finish buttering the bread, this time without holes._

" _See big guy, I knew you could do it! You just need to relax sometimes. That's alright though, we can work on that later," Stiles said as he sat back and began pouring drinks into cups. Derek's hands felt surprisingly cold without Stiles' warmth. His wolf let out a small whine. It was because Derek was lost in thought that he didn't notice the others come up over the hill first, but Stiles did, and ran up to meet them._

 _It was that moment that Derek when watching stiles sprint happily and carelessly towards his friends, already laughing and cracking another joke, he knew that he loved him. Stiles may just be a human, but Derek loved him, and wouldn't give him up for the world._

It seemed as though time flew by. The two had started dating not long after and three years later, Derek knew that they were going strong. Too strong now. He would never, ever want to put Stiles in harm's way. Unfortunately for Derek, he was dangerous and deadly for Stiles. He was the harm.

His boyfriend now had a job at the police department under his dad's wing. It was incredible how Stiles came home every single night so thrilled by the day. Whether it was how he gave someone a speeding fine or how he got into a foot chase with a criminal, Stiles was always eager to share his day with Derek. Stiles had joy. Had hope for a bright future. The wolf knew he couldn't take that away from the younger man.

* * *

Stiles awoke to an empty king sized bed. He was worried at first, wondering where his boyfriend was. He bolted to the kitchen, hoping that maybe Derek was there making pancakes. Ever since Stiles told his partner the way his mum used to make them, Stiles was often woken by the delicious smell of pancakes, stacked and topped with blueberries and dripping with maple syrup. It reminded him of the little time he had with his mother.

As he looked around, Stiles noticed a little yellow sticky note on the fridge. It stuck out amongst the thousands of brochures he and Derek had collected over the years.

'Gone to see Deaton. Feed yourself- no eggs. I'll be back as soon as I can. xx'

Stiles smiled at the note. Derek found out the hard way that Stiles was a horrible cook. He once tried to make his boyfriend breakfast in bed and it all went horribly wrong.

His alarm rang at 5.30am. Stiles groaned, smacking clumsily at the bedside table where it stood, trying to (unsuccessfully) turn it off. Damn Derek for being an early riser.

"'Ive more minutes…" Stiles mumbled, face smooshing into the pillow. "Wait!" He bolted upright, suddenly remembering what day it was. He groaned, rolling out of bed. Stiles had exactly 30 minutes to give his boyfriend the breakfast of a lifetime. He rolled out of bed, groaning, but not before giving Derek a quick kiss. He quickly put on a shirt and brushed his teeth, before stumbling off, still half asleep, to make the incredible breakfast.

When Stiles had gone shopping that week, he had made sure he had all the necessities to cook the best breakfast. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, orange juice, the lot! With 10 minutes left, all that was left to cook were the eggs to go with the bacon.

Stiles was never a morning person, so while the food was cooking, he decided to rest his eyes for a second. It was only 5:50am, after all.

Bad idea.

He hadn't realised he had dozed off until a pair of strong hands shook him awake. His sourwolf was leaning over him, eyes wide with worry.

"Stiles, the fire extinguisher!" Stiles looked over his boyfriend's shoulder, where a massive flame was blazing from the stove top. The clock on the wall read 6:20.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry I that was not meant to happen oh god what have I done?" Stiles practically yelled, wishing the ground would swallow him home.

Derek being the superman he is, extinguished the flame before this could happen.

"Care to explain?" Derek asked Stiles.

"I wanted to make you something nice for your birthday." Stiles responded, blushing. He looked up to see Derek with a rare look on his face. It was mixture surprise and disbelief. Maybe this had been a bad idea, maybe he should've just ordered something instead maybe-

A pair strong arms wrapped around him, interrupting his thoughts. The younger man felt safe and secure in Derek's arms, any doubt melting away. It felt like they could protect Stiles from absolutely anything in the world.

"Sty, you didn't have to do that. I don't need anything special on my birthday, except you."

"I'm pretty sure that's the most you've said to me at anyone time," Stiles whispered, not wanting to break the moment. Derek's chuckle filled the room and Stiles' heart. It was a beautiful sound, a deep rich chuckle that made Stiles' knees buckle.

"I love you my hyperactive spaz," Derek had murmured in Stiles' ear ever so lovingly.

"I love you too sourwolf," Stiles responded hugging him even tighter.

Stiles decided he would make himself a bowl of fruit loops. Every time they went grocery shopping together, Derek would often shake his head at Stiles' unhealthy selections, claiming they would give him cavities and stomach aches. Stiles simply criticised Derek's kale in return making faces at the 'gross green stuff'. His boyfriend still bought the sugary snacks. Stiles knew it was because they made him happy.

After a long and well deserved shower after a tough week at the station, Stiles wondered where his wolf may be. Why would Deaton need to see Derek so suddenly? He told himself to stop stressing, as he would just ask his partner when he got back.

Walking into the lounge room, he decided that he wanted to paint the wall. Maybe a nice, bright red. Not blood red, but the red of a Valentine's Day card, or the colour of his hoodie. The house could use some brightening up. He would ask the sourwolf when he returned.

Hours later, he finally saw his boyfriend pull up in the driveway. Derek looked very grim and Stiles immediately felt the urge to give him the biggest hug. He did just that. Derek hugged back, tighter than he ever had. Stiles didn't need wolfy senses to know something was up.

"You ok Der? Did something happen at Deaton's?" Stiles asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. After a long pause, Derek's hoarse voice replied.

"Yeah. Alan just wanted to know if you wanted any more wolfsbane. That's all." Came his boyfriend's response while never meeting Stiles' eyes.

"Really, that took you four hours?" Stiles hadn't meant to sound accusing but he couldn't help it as it leaked out. All Derek's response was a lift of his eyebrow. Maybe he should just stop thinking the worst. He knew the older man would never cheat on him or want to hurt him in anyway. So, he just took his boyfriend's hand and lead him to the couch.

They stayed together wrapped up for hours. It felt different for Stiles. Normally Derek would hop up, or just hold him lightly but now, Derek held so tightly he thought he might get bruises. The good bruises though. Like the kind that was left on his body after their nights together. Stiles felt loved, more than he ever had before.

"I'm sorry." Derek whispered after hours of silence. Stiles almost didn't catch it. The wind must've carried it to his own ears.

"What for?" Stiles said softly.

"For uh… taking so long at Deaton's today." Derek stammered out. There was nothing to be sorry for, Stiles thought. He was doing him a favour anyway.

"No, don't apologise. Sorry for assuming the worst. I just kind of panicked, you know?" He responded. The wolf nodded his head to signal that he had heard Stiles.

"We should paint that wall. What do you think Der?" Stiles continued the conversation.

"If it makes you happy. I want you to be happy. That's all I ever want for you." Stiles just made a small sound to acknowledge the answer. Of course it would make him happy, but why was Derek acting so strangely? Stiles just assumed it was because of a bad day. Tomorrow, Stiles wanted to make it one of these days he craved. Just him and Derek with no distractions.


	2. The Beach

So this is chapter 2! I hope you enjoy reading it. Thanks to the people that have already favored and followed. It means a lot. This chapter was written by Onxyia99. She is an amazing author so a massive shoutout to her. Again, any favorites, follows or reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks! :)

* * *

Derek woke up to soft hands tracing the curves of his chest and stomach, trying to map out and memorize each and every curve.

"Wake up Sourwolf," a sleepy voice murmured in his ear. "We're going out today."

"Mmh," Derek answered with a low grumble. Stiles continued running his hands over Derek's muscular chest, and it made his wolf whine with pleasure. Derek stiffened, yesterday's events returning to him.

"You okay Der?" Stiles asked, feeling him tense.

"Yes, of course," Derek replied, regaining his composure.

"Okay, great, 'cause we're going out today! Just the two of us." Stiles said excitedly.

"Where, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Actually, I do. It's going to be a surprise," he said, grinning mischievously. "Oh, and you're in charge of packing lunch, because unfortunately, I don't think there are any rabbits for you to catch as a snack," Stiles said before getting up. Derek couldn't help but smile at the joke as Stiles left. Somewhat reluctantly, he got out of the warm bed and to prepare some sandwiches.

"Derek, where's the Polaroid? And my phone charger? Where's my phone?" A loud clatter followed by swearing echoed through the loft. "Well, not it this draw that's for sure." Derek sighed and went to grab the items in question.

"Der? Did you hear m- Oh nice, thanks!" Stiles came into the kitchen, spotting all the missing things.

"I put your phone on charge last night, since you usually forget. I've also made sandwiches to take on the trip. But we were out of bacon for some reason, so just cheese, ham and tomato sandwiches," Derek said, clicking the lunchbox shut.

"Yeah… I wonder where all the bacon went," Stiles laughed nervously, rubbing his neck. Derek raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. It was quite obvious who ate it all every time, because it was only him and Stiles living there.

He finished packing extra snacks into the bag he prepared, nearly crushing the camera Stiles had chucked carelessly into it. Shaking his head, he moved it to a different compartment of the backpack. What would Stiles do without him?

"Come on sourwolf, let's go! It's a long drive and I want to be able to actually spend some time there," Stiles said grabbing the bag and heading outside.

"It would help if I knew where we were going," Derek grumbled, but followed anyway, locking the door behind him.

"We're taking your car," Stiles informed him, pulling on the locked door handle.

"You aren't driving my car," Derek said. "We're taking the Jeep."

"No! But I wanna drive your car. We're taking the Camaro."

They took the Jeep. After much complaining and pouting, Derek finally led (dragged) Stiles to the car, telling to "Just drive the car, Stiles". It wasn't the best idea, because while Derek had his arms around Stiles, dragging him, the urge to bite him was strong. The only thing keeping him back was the memory of Deaton, and his dark words.

This put Derek in a grim mood, and he was quiet for a while, mulling over what to do. He didn't want to hurt Stiles and he _especially_ didn't want to kill him. He hadn't noticed Stiles glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes every few seconds, until Stiles nearly crashed into the oncoming traffic.

"Hey Der, you feeling okay? You seem kinda out of it today," Stiles said as Derek grabbed at the steering wheel, his werewolf reflexes preventing a crash.

"Please, watch the road," Derek said, sounding worried.

"Seriously, your ears have been droopy all morning. Metaphorically speaking. If you shifted I'm pretty sure they would be," Stiles said, grinning at his own joke.

"No, I'm fine, just wondering where you're taking me, that's all," Derek replied. Stiles gave him a look that said he clearly didn't believe him, but let the issue drop anyway. He knew that when Derek was ready, he would tell him. It's always been like that in their relationship. They trusted one another.

"Where are you taking me?" Derek asked, genuinely curious, as they had been driving for at least two hours.

"Well, you'll see when we get there, won't you?" Stiles replied. "Besides, we're nearly there. Oh, and no, this isn't some elaborate plan to take you to the vet."

Derek growled at the dog joke, but he was smiling. It kinda grows on you after a while. Stiles grew on him after a while, and he wouldn't change anything between them. Except perhaps the fact that Stiles would die if he let his control slip and his wolf bite him. Derek sighed at the thought.

"What? Sorry, no more dog jokes, I'm sorry," Stiles said worriedly, mistaking Derek's sigh for annoyance. "You have try guess though."

After about an hour he had narrowed the possibilities down to not the dog park, not Stiles' favorite pizza shop that was in the next state across, not the diner which Stiles praised because of their curly fries, not the corn maze, definitely not a chocolate factory and a quite a few other places they had both been to and loved. By the time they finished listing out places that Stiles _wasn't_ taking Derek to, they finally arrived at the destination.

"The beach?"

"Yeah! Isn't it great? I hope you don't mind getting sand in your fur," Stiles said, getting out of the car. Derek got out too, muscles stiff from hours in the car. It was actually a pain to get sand out of his fur, not that he was going to admit that to Stiles.

They walked down to the beach from the car park, the shoreline surprisingly empty for such a beautiful warm day. Cool blue water lapped at the sand, noisy gulls squawked overhead and the salty smell of the ocean filled Derek's nose, which he found surprisingly calming. The last time he went down to the water was when he was just a pup on a family trip.

He remembered running across the damp sand into the water, splashing it at his sister, who was already there. He remembered swimming through the waves, muscles aching as he fought against their strong pull. In that moment he had felt powerful, free, like he could conquer anything. Snapping back to the present, his wolf suddenly wanted to run or swim like that again, free of problems and worries, just him and the waves.

Stiles found Derek's hand, and they walked like that for a while, just enjoying one another's company.

"Stiles, let's go," Derek suddenly said, gripping Stiles' hand tighter and dragging him toward the water.

"No, Derek! I bet it's cold, I don't want to-" he was cut short as he was dragged into the ocean. Just at that moment a large wave washed over them.

"Oh my god, Derek! You are _so_ dead!" but Stiles was laughing now, chasing after Derek, trying to splash him. Even Derek was laughing now, which was rare, his rich, deep voice making Stiles laugh even harder.

Derek ran from Stiles, his werewolf strength proving an obvious advantage as they both splashed clumsily through the waves.

"Derek! I will catch your furry ass and splash you!" Stiles yelled after him, nearly falling on his face, catching himself at the last minute. "Come back!" Stiles laughed.

* * *

The sun was setting by the time they were heading back to the car. Both men were exhausted, although Stiles was panting a lot more heavily.

At the car they grabbed a few towels and the food, before making their way to small hill which overlooked the water, which was sparkling orange and red from the sun's dying light. Here is where they decided to settle, laying out a towel to sit on.

"Ooh, yes, gimme a sandwich," Stiles said immediately, making grabby hands at the backpack.

"It's literally right there, you can get one yourself," Derek said, although he was already getting up. "If you moved a foot forward you could reach it. What do you want?"

"Ham and cheese please. Damn. I'm a poet and I didn't even know it," Stiles said. Derek shook his said, smiling to himself. As he looked for the requested sandwich, he heard the click of a camera.

"Aha! Great shot!" Stiles exclaimed, holding the Polaroid camera in one hand and a still faint photograph in the other. "Look at your hair! This is perfect, it's going up at home!" Derek stilled a little when he realized that Stiles had called it 'home', sandwich still in his hand, forgotten.

"You know, that's the first time I've thought of it as a home. It never really felt the same when I moved there, after the fire," Derek said quietly, staring up at the pink and orange sky. "The loft has always seemed like a short-term place to stay. Which is why I guess I barely furnished it when I moved in," Derek paused for a moment, lost in thought. "You make it home, Stiles." Derek looked at his boyfriend, heart filling with love.

Stiles wordlessly scooted over to him, pressing up against him for warmth, the evening air cool without the warm sunlight. The two sat there like that, silently enjoying one another's company, and watching the dwindling light fade from the sky.

"I love you," Stiles said suddenly, looking up at Derek. This was the first time he'd said it, and derek was momentarily lost, unsure of what to do, before gently kissing Stiles.

It started off gentle, soft lips and light touches, but Derek's wolf was excited, howling and trying to take control. The kiss quickly deepened, Derek hungrily trying to devour Stiles' mouth. He tried to memorize the feel and taste of his lips, and in an instant Stiles was pressed under him, Derek's wolf nearly in control. He wanted to mark him, bite him, claim Stiles as his so the whole world knew, but Deaton's words were clawing at the back of his mind. With a great effort, Derek finally pulled away.

He glanced down at Stiles' neck, where quite a deep imprint was left from his fangs, when his control slipped. He nearly did it. He nearly bit him. Nearly ended Stiles' short life.

"I...I'm so sorry Stiles," Derek was panicking now.

"But you did nothing w-" Stiles began, but Derek had already bolted up and was running towards the Jeep. "Derek, wait!" Stiles called after him.

But it was too late. Derek was at the car, turning on the engine, driving away. He could still hear Stiles calling after him, his voice filled with pain and heartbreak. He didn't want to leave, but it was for the best. His wolf was still growling, trying to take over, but he pushed it down. He had nearly killed Stiles. Nearly _killed_ him.

* * *

"Derek! Wait! Derek! Der, don't leave...Derek, I need y-" Stiles broke off with a choked sob. The look in Derek's eyes just before he ran… the way he had said sorry. It had sounded so final, more of a goodbye than an apology.

He hadn't felt this level of pain and heartbreak for a long time. In fact, the last time was when his mother died. He felt like he was drowning; suffocating in an ocean of pain and sadness. It felt like his chest had been torn open and the cold, salty waves of heartbreak washed over him, causing his heart and chest to burn, as if he was on fire.

He wanted to scream at the world; scream at Derek, and ask him what he did wrong. Why did he just leave? Was the 'I love you' too much? Which part did he screw up?

Stiles sat on the damp towel, backpack clutched to his chest like it was a precious jewel, too valuable to lose. It was dark now. The ocean no longer beautiful and sparkling, but rather cold and menacing, smashing against the shore with a ferocious anger. The only thing interrupting the roar of the water were Stiles' choked, ugly sobs.

Eventually, he had calmed down enough to realize that he was stranded five hours away from home, without a car, phone or any money.

Stiles decided to head to the nearest town to see what could be arranged. Lucky for him, it only took ten minutes to reach the little seaside town, but unfortunately for him, that's where his luck ended. He had managed to find a payphone and scrape together some change from the bottom of the backpack. He used the change to call Derek, who of course didn't reply.

"You've reached Derek Hale, please leave a message after the beep," a loud beep sounded in his ear.

"Derek? I- I'm sorry. I don't know why you left, but I'm sorry. Please pick up, we really need to talk. Derek-" choked up again, the lump in his throat making it hard to talk, eyes wet with fresh tears. "Derek, I- I miss you Derek. I need you. Please call back. I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I l- nevermind. Please call back. Please," Stiles hung up with a shaky breath, wiping the tears from his face.

He stood there for a minute, leaning against the phone booth, trying to regain his composure and calm down. That's when he realized he had blown any chance of calling someone for a ride home. He should've known Derek wouldn't pick up. He was stupid to have even thought that Derek would pick up his damn phone and talk about what was wrong. Damn Derek and his emotional constipation. Damn him for thinking that Derek would answer. How could he be so stupid? Stiles let out an angry growl and kicked at the phone.

"Ow! That fu-"

"You alright there man?" a guy in boardshorts and a loose shirt that read "Surf Up" came up behind him.

"Me? Uh, yeah, it's just that uh, my car broke down on the beach because of the sand, yeah the sand got in the engine, and I uh, I need to call my insurance company but I left all my stuff in the car because I'm an idiot. Do you have any change you can spare?"

"Sure man, no problem!" the guy said, flicking sandy brown hair out of his eyes. He handed over a bunch of quarters and Stiles sighed with relief.

"Thanks, thank you so much! You don't know how grateful I am," Stiles said, glad that he could finally call someone to come pick him up.

"No problem man. Glad to help out a bro in need." he said as he walked away, waving.

As soon as he was gone Stiles shoved the coins into the phone and dialed Scott's number. Scott picked up after four rings.

"Oh thank god, Scott! You gotta come pick me up. Der- Derek," Stiles was breaking down in sobs again.

"Woah calm down, it's okay. Tell me what happened, Stiles," Scott's reassuring tone said through the receiver.

"We- We were out, at the beach, and- and I told him I loved him and he kissed me but- but then he just left. He just left me here Scott. He took the car. It's dark and I'm here with nothing and the friggen mosquitoes are sucking my blood like vampires and I'm itchy and cold and-" he was blabbering now, a complete mess. He just wanted Derek. He needed to know what was wrong.

"Stiles! It's going to be okay. Tell me where you are and I'll come pick you up,' Scott said.

* * *

Stiles had fallen asleep waiting for Scott. He sat awkwardly on the curb, knees pressed up to his chest, arms clutched around them, as if that was all that was keeping him together.

"Stiles?" Scott's voice broke through Stiles' haze, and he jerked awake.

"Scott! Thank god you're here. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you drive all the way here. I just… I didn't know who else to call,"

"It's okay, it happens," Scott replied. The two got into the car, Stiles slumping clumsily into the seat. It was quiet as they drove, only the drone of tires on the road filling the silence. Stiles was glad that Scott didn't ask what happened. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk about it. Instead, he stared blankly out the window, not really paying attention, but staring pointlessly none the less.

After several hours, Stiles finally spoke up. He told Scott everything that happened that day; about the morning, about the beach, and the "I love you" and the kiss and the running off. Scott listened silently the whole time, only talking when Stiles finally finished the story.

"What an ass. I expected better of Derek," Scott paused. "That said, it doesn't seem like him. You need to talk to him about it," he added. "He loves you too, you know," he said, glancing at Stiles, who nodded, slowly. He spent the remaining two hours of the trip thinking over Scott's words. It wasn't like Derek to just leave him.

When Scott finally pulled the car over, the dashboard clock read 4:27. The Jeep was already there, and Stiles' heart jumped. He stumbled out of Scott's car, and ran to the door of the loft. It was open, which usually meant Derek was home.

"Derek? Derek? You here?" Stiles called, only to be answered with silence.

"I don't think he's here. I can't smell him," Scott said, coming up behind Stiles, whose shoulders visibly slumped. He ran back outside and to the Jeep, the finding the keys still in the ignition.

"Where are you going?" Scott asked.

"I- I need to go find him. I know he's not going to answer his phone, but I know where he might be," Stiles said and started the car.

"No, you're not going anywhere. It's _five_ in the morning! Go to bed, and when you wake we can go look. Okay?" He pulled Stiles out of the car, and dragged him to his and Derek's bed. "You go to sleep now. You need to rest and clear your head." Unwillingly, Stiles lay down and sleep washed over him, Derek's familiar scent lulling him into a deep sleep.


	3. Found

**Sorry for such a late update! It's holidays here in Australia and Onyxia and I have been really busy.**

 **Thank you for the favourites and follows. We both appreciate it so much! We hope you love this chapter. We've worked really hard on it.**

 **Cheers!**

* * *

Stiles woke up fluttering his eyelids.

"Morning Der-" he stopped himself as an empty bed greeted him. Where was Derek in this time of the morn...afternoon? He got up, expecting to see a yellow sticky note explaining Derek's absence, but was met by the sight of Scott instead. Slumped over in an armchair; it did not look comfortable.

"Oh shit," Stiles groaned, as yesterday's events all came rushing back. He stumbled a bit, as if the memories had a physical weight to them.

"Stiles?" Scott said sleepily, woken up by the sudden mad scrambling. It looked as though Stiles was pulling apart every draw of the loft.

"Where are the damn keys? I gotta go. I need to find Derek," he said as a pile of useless crap came tumbling down.

"Hey, Stiles. Stiles. Deep breaths. Calm down. We're not going anywhere until you've eaten and had a shower. No offence, but you smell of old fish," Scott said and dragged Stiles over to the kitchen. "Sit down, I'll get you something to eat." He opened the pantry, trying to find something decent. "Why on earth do you have a shelf full of fruit loops?" Scott asked, eyeing the boxes.

"They were on sale. Buy two get a third box free," Stiles muttered. He sighed when he remembered the shopping trip where they had bought all 12 boxes.

' _Buy 2 and get 1 free!' The sign had read. Sure, Derek had sent him off to get_ _ **ONE**_ _box of cereal, but this was a bargain. He reached out with both hands and grabbed as many boxes as humanly possible. The rattle of the contents attracted attention from the other shoppers. One which was his boyfriend._

" _Stiles! What are you doing? I specifically told you_ _ **ONE**_ _, not," The older man started counting the boxes of cereal, "12!"_

" _But we're saving money!" Exclaimed Stiles quite proudly._

" _How?" Questioned Derek_

" _It's math," came the younger man's explanation. Derek's response was simply a lift of his eyebrows. Stiles kept his smile. He approached the trolley full of vegetables and dumped all 12 boxes of fruit loops. The noisy sound made the shoppers again turn around in annoyance. Stiles then looked at the face of his boyfriend and was sure that Derek would put 11 boxes back. That was until the sourwolf just made a sigh and continued walking the cash register to pay for the groceries._

 _Admiring his partners backside, Stiles fist pumped the air. Only he could could make Derek buy 12 packets of cereal even though that Stiles knew that he would get sick of them after the 5th box. He was also sure Derek knew that too. He couldn't move for a few moments as he realized how much Derek had changed over the years. First, he was undoubtedly a sourwolf; now he was turning into a 'sweetwolf'_

"Well, fruit loops it is then," Scott said snapping Stiles out of his memory. Scott served a bowl up in front of Stiles, who ate two spoons, chewing slowly. He prodded with his spoon till they were soggy and inedible.

"Well, that's breakfast," Scott said. "Go have a shower and put on some clean clothes. Then we can go."

* * *

"Where are we going?" asked Scott, clinging to the car as Stiles took another sharp turn. Stiles had been driving violently ever since they left, and Scott wished he'd talked him into letting him drive.

"Hale mansion," Stiles said, glaring at the road, fingers tapping against the wheel.

"Okay, cool," Scott paused. "Do you… do you want me to drive?" Scott asked, trying to sound cheery. "I know you're stressed, so I thought that maybe you could just sit down and rest. You could tell me where to go and-"

"No," Stiles cut him off, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument. He knew Scott just wanted to help (and not die in a car crash), but if he was just sitting there he would feel useless. He needed to _do_ something. He tried not to look at Scott as he continued driving, because he knew his best friend would be giving him the puppy dog eyes; he was afraid to lose it and break down again. He needed to stay focused.

Shortly after, they pulled up in front of the burnt, broken building. Stiles' heart was pounding as he got out of the car. He crossed his fingers Derek was here. After a second thought, he crossed his toes for good measure, too.

"Derek? Are you here? Der? It's me," he called while running like a bullet onto the property. The flapping of wings, as a flock of birds flew up from the roof greeted him. Stiles went up to the door, and it creaked as he opened it. A fine layer of dust covered the floor, only disturbed by Stiles' footsteps.

"I don't think he's here. If he was, his scent would be a lot stronger," Scott said.

"Yeah," Stiles said, his shoulders slumping as they headed back to the car.

"I'm sorry Stiles, do you know where else he could be?" Scott asked, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"I-" Stiles began, his voice wobbling. He paused, taking in a deep breath and telling himself that everything was going to be okay. This was all a huge mistake and when he found Derek they'd sort it out. "I have a few more places in mind".

"Okay, you sure you don't want me to drive?"

"Yeah, besides, you know I'm terrible at giving directions," Stiles said, attempting a smile. He was sure it turned out as more of a grimace.

"Okay, let's go I guess," Scott said, and they were driving off. Stiles seemed to have calmed down a bit, his driving less violent, but his fingers continued to drum on the steering wheel and he kept tapping his other foot.

There next stop was at the cafe where pack meetings were sometimes held, then at the old abandoned warehouse where Derek would sometimes go if he was mad, then they drove through the forest along Derek's jogging tracks, but his scent was faint meaning he hadn't been there for days. With each stop, Stiles breaths became shorter and he tapped his foot and fingers faster, nervously talking to Scott about random trivial things in between muttering 'Everything is going to be okay' and 'We'll find him' until eventually they ran out of places to go. Stiles pulled his Jeep up in front of Scott's house when the night turned pitch black.

"I know we've run out of places to look, but I don't think he's at my house," Scott said.

"No, that's not why we're here. I'm calling it a night, Scott," Stiles replied.

"Oh. Okay. Do you want me to help look tomorrow?" Scott asked.

"No, no it's okay. You should stay with Allision. I know you two haven't had time to see each other lately. I think I just need some time alone. Thanks for today though. I really appreciate it," Stiles said, and Scott hugged him tightly.

"Fine, but call me if you need anything, okay? And tell me if you find him. I'll kick his ass," Scott growled.

"Okay, sure thing," Stiles said glumly as they waved goodbye.

He drove slowly to the loft, trying to think of any other places where Derek could've possibly gone. Beacon Hills wasn't huge, but it would take at least a week to search through most of it.

When he made it home, Stiles fell on the bed, still in his clothes from earlier, and well into a nightmare plagued sleep.

* * *

When Stiles awoke next, it was still dark outside, and his clock read 2am. He barely slept at all. He got up anyway and went to his Jeep. He just sat there for a while, leaning against the steering wheel, trying to think like Derek; imagine where he would go. He needed to find him, if not for himself then for the pack. They'd start asking questions and Scott wouldn't be able to handle it all alone. They all needed Derek. He sighed and decided to just drive.

Stiles found himself stopping at the entry to the forest, like so many years ago. He realized this was the the place where he first saw Derek, where Scott lost his inhaler and was bitten. He can still remember his initial shock when he saw Derek years after the fire. Derek was a senior and everyone knew him but there was never any reason for the older man to remember Stiles. More memories flashed before his eyes as he glanced around, but didn't see anyone, only a squirrel run up a tree and a bird fly past.

He got back in the car, and he suddenly knew where to go. He stopped at his favorite diner, the one with the best curly fries. He remembered how Derek would sometimes steal them, or frown at him for pouring way too much ketchup on his. He thought about Derek rolling his eyes at him when they were arguing about whether curly fries tasted better than regular fries (they did), or how he would shake his head at Stiles for "drowning his fries in sauce", because apparently you were meant to put ketchup on the side instead. But he didn't find Derek there, and when he asked around none of the waiters had seen him. So he drove off to the next place.

He soon stood in the clearing where Derek asked him out, the first time Stiles' had seen Derek blush and look embarrassed. He remembered lecturing Derek on buttering bread properly that day, and he smiled. A smile which faded as he looked around and didn't find Derek. Stiles then began to wander deeper into the forest, until he reached an overhand which overlooked Beacon Hills.

It was here, on a cold autumn night that they first kissed. Stiles was freezing, so Derek held him close as they watched the sunset. He felt so safe. The sky was painted bright orange shades, like the leaves at their feet. Stiles had been, like usual, quietly talking about random nonsense, but for once Derek didn't mind. Instead, he pulled Stiles closer, until their lips touched, and they were kissing. Stiles shivered at the memory, as if he was there again that night, in the cold, pressing against Derek's strong chest. When he realized he was alone, a single tear slipped down his cheek.

"Derek? Derek, where are you? _Why_? Why did you leave me" Stiles shouted at the air. He stood there shaking; and it wasn't because of the cool night.

As Stiles slowly began to wander back to his car, he could've sworn he heard a howl from deep inside the woods. He shivered again and wrote it off on his imagination.

Stiles spent about a week like this, wandering or driving to places of significance to him and Derek. He refused Scott's invitations to go out to eat or meet with the rest of the pack nor did he answer the door or his phone. He hadn't showered in a while now either, and he was sure he stunk. He might of showered if he cared.

* * *

Then, exactly nine days after the beach trip, (he might of been counting), a loud persistent knocking woke him at 6:00am. He rolled over in bed and tried to ignore it, like he had all the other times. Whoever it was wasn't giving up and the knocking persisted. After ten minutes, Stiles finally got up.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Gosh stop the banging!" he yelled as he made his way across the loft. When he opened the door, it wasn't who he was expecting.

"Dad? What're you doing here?" he asked, surprised by the sudden visit.

"Scott told me I should stop by to check on you, and now I see why. C'mon kiddo, what's with the mess?" the sheriff said, concern written plainly across his features.

Stiles looked around at the mess that was his (and Derek's), house and then down at himself. His socks which were white were now turning brown. There were fast food wrappers and pizza boxes littering the floor, and he had lots of stains and smudges across his shirt, which he hadn't changed in a long time.

"Everything is fine dad, I'll clean this up you don't have to come in we can just chat out- or you can come in," Stiles finished lamely as his father pushed past him into the loft.

"This," the sheriff said, gesturing around them, "doesn't exactly scream everything is fine to me," he said. Stiles just slumped down on the couch. "Look son, I know what's going on right now is tough, but you just have to push through. Now, I know I don't exactly approve of Derek, but I know he loves you a lot and wouldn't do this without a good reason. You should've told me something was up before, I could have helped you look for him as I do think you two lads should sort it out. Scott told me that you've practically looked all over Beacon Hills for him, but is there anywhere you could have missed or forgotten? A special place to Derek that he told you about? Think about it kiddo. And please, for the love of god, go take a shower. I have to go, or I'll be late for work," the sheriff said as he made his way to the door.

Stiles suddenly got up and sprinted after him, embracing him in a warm hug.

"I love you dad. Thanks for stopping by,"

"I love you too kiddo. Please take care of yourself," he said before they broke apart. With one last glance over his shoulder, John left his son's apartment.

Stiles spent the rest of the day furiously cleaning up the house (and himself), all the while trying to remember a place he could of overlooked. It literally hit him when he was scrubbing the kitchen floor and a plate fell on his head.

"Ow- Oh!" Stiles remembered Derek once telling him of a lake deep out in the forest, a kind of sanctuary to him. He said he used to go there a lot after the fire. The water was calming and because it was so far out, hardly anyone knew of the place. He could go full wolf and slash tree trunks without anyone seeing him. He had never taken Stiles there, so he had to find the place himself.

Several hours later, after pouring over countless maps he still couldn't find a lake out in the woods. That's probably why Derek picked the spot.

"Why does this crap always happen to me? I'm great at research, I should be able to find the place in no time," Stiles groaned. "Nope, I'm done. I'm too tired to bend over old maps," he said as he opened his laptop. It was still open on Google maps, from when he was planning their heir beach trip. "I'm an idiot. How did I forget about the Internet?" Stiles asked himself as he opened Google Earth.

He found the lake Derek must of been talking about in no time, there weren't many other ones around. Before he could regret his decision, he climbed in the Jeep and drove off.

Stiles drove as far as he could into the thicket of trees, but was eventually forced to get out and walk, as they became too close together. After navigating through the forest for about two hours, he stumbled upon a clearing, where a huge lake lay before him. This had to be the place he thought, slightly breathless from the hike.

As he examined the area, he noticed a hunched figure sitting on a log. His once strong alpha now looked so small a vulnerable. That didn't stop Stiles' anger from bubbling to the surface.

" _You!_ What the hell Derek!? Do you know how worried I was? Do you have any idea what I had to do to find you?! I had to use Google Earth! I bet you don't know how many hours I spent on that just looking for this dumb ass lake. And it's in the middle of freaking nowhere which was inaccessible by car. I had to walk! It took me over 2 hours to get here you asshole!" Derek had turned his head which hung in shame. And yet, he didn't say a word to Stiles.

"Say something you prick!" Stiles could tell he would regret what he was saying but he couldn't help the hurt and anger from seething out into his voice.

"Stiles I…" Derek met Stiles' burning gaze for a brief moment before having to look away. Birds flapped their wings breaking the building tension between the two men.

" _Why?_ " Stiles could barely whisper the word. The wind must of carried it to Derek's ears.

"Why? Was I in love with you too much? Don't you love me Der?" Stiles silently cried while Derek looked at him. His expression showed a lot of pain and regret.

"Stiles, I'm sorry I ran but," Stiles looked up into his boyfriend's beautiful emerald eyes that were so easy to fall in love with. "But, I can't. Not anymore." No more words were needed to tell Stiles that Derek was breaking up with him. Stiles felt his world freeze for a few moments. Derek abruptly stood, turning to walk away.

"You're leaving?!" Stiles yelled at Derek's back. The wolf slowly turned around, head looking straight at the ground and not at Stiles broken expression. "You can't. I know you love me. I know you like no one else does. I doubt your family even knew you as well as I do," Stiles could see Derek flinch at his words. "But I'm not her Derek. I won't hurt you. It would kill me if I ever hurt you," Stiles could now see a broad mix of emotions on Derek's face. Stiles knew it was a cheap shot to bring Kate and his family into this, but he was hurt. More than he could ever possibly imagine.

"I don't want to hurt you either." Came the wolf's low voice.

"It's too late Derek. You've taken your best shot! Why don't I just a knife out of his collection. I'll turn around; let you stab me with it. Maybe that'll give relief for whatever this is."

"You don't mean that Stiles. You'll get over what we had. It might take you a while, but one morning you'll get up and realize this was for the best."

"Had? Derek, we still have it! I love you! I want to be your husband. I want to grow old with you. I know you want it too." Stiles voice was now laced with uncertainty and fear.

"Wanted. Not anymore Stiles."

"That's absolute _BULLSHIT_ and we both know that Der. I love you Derek Hale. I have loved since you let me know the real you. You love me too. I know you do." something

"Love fades. Mine has." With that, Derek turned and walked away, before Stiles could say anything more. He barely noticed the single tear running down Derek's cheek


	4. It's Not Home

**Hello everyone! I am so very sorry about the long wait for the new chapter. Onyxia and I have been so busy with homework, vacations and just everyday chores. This story is an angsty one, but we love Derek and Stiles to much to put them in too much pain. Thanks to everyone that reviewed! We greatly appreciate it. :))**

* * *

A few hours. That was all it took for Stiles to move all of his belongings out of Derek's apartment. Every piece of clothing, electronic charges, coffee mugs and heck, even his toothbrush was gone. It felt unfamiliar; bare and cold. Not the usual feeling of warmth and security that Stiles had brought to the loft. His love's sadness was all that he could smell. Derek knew he caused that.

The wolf had been roaming the desolate and dark streets for numerous hours. He couldn't face being back here. Stiles had called it home. A home that belonged to not only him, but his boyfriend. Now, it was just going to be the place he took residence without Stiles. His inner beast howled in anger, causing him to throw the blender across the loft, a loud crash echoing across the bare house when it landed. Stiles was gone. _Gone_. Of course, it was for the better, but that wouldn't make it easier. It was inevitable that what they had would end, but God, had he hoped it never did. They had an ocean of love but Derek had made them drown. The two had everything, but Derek had to walk away. It felt like he was falling, a long way down into nothing.

Slowly, Derek shuffled his feet into the room he used to share with the younger man. All the photographs of them were gone. The walls stripped of all the moments they had shared together. It used to be a sanctuary for the two of them; a place they would go after a long day, somewhere peaceful to relax and enjoy each other's company. Now, it was a room where he would sleep. _Sleep._ Derek shook his head. He didn't want to sleep. Not without Stiles.

This time last week, his love had been singing and brushing his teeth in the en suite to his left. Toothpaste went everywhere, but he didn't even consider getting the nearest towel to clean it up. No, he just laughed and told Stiles not to quit his day job to become a singer. That was then. Two days before he found out that he would kill Stiles in a matter of time. Derek wanted to turn back time, even just for a day, to relive the moments in time where he would continually fall for Stiles in every single way.

* * *

As Derek walked away, Stiles collapsed on the ground, knees unable to hold his weight. No. This wasn't happening. Derek hadn't just said that. It was a dream. These last few days had all been a bad dream; a nightmare.

"Derek," he sobbed. Tears openly streaming down his face, breaths coming in short gasps. "Derek," Stiles managed to choke out again. It felt like his throat was closing off; he couldn't breathe or think. All color seemed to drain from the world, as if someone had poured bleach on the forest, his vision going dim. He could just barely see Derek freeze mid step, before he faded into the forest. Stiles tried to call after him, but he could barely breathe, so he shrunk down, curling up into a little ball. His loud, ugly sobs filled the air; the sound of someone who's heart was just shattered into a million tiny pieces. He stayed like this, crying, well into the night.

That's how Scott found him early next morning. His breathing seemed to have evened out, but the whole world still looked bland and colorless. The trees above seemed to loom taller than before, blocking out the sun's faint morning rays, casting long, dark shadows on the forest floor.

"Stiles? Are you okay? I saw Derek beating up a tree on the way to work and-" at the mention of Derek's name, Stiles let out another sob. "Stiles? What did he do? Stiles?"

"He's gone…" Stiles mumbled, his voice just above a whisper. "Gone... Just like that," Stiles finished with a click of his fingers.

"What? What do you mean? Wait- You can't mean he-" Scott's mouth fell open as it dawned on him. "No… He didn't! I'm gonna _kill_ him! I swear, I'm going to shove a stick so far up his-"

"Scott… It's okay. I'm fine, it's all good, really. I cried it all out, it's fine now," Stiles said, wiping tears off his face, and trying to sound confident. He might of pulled it off if his voice didn't wobble. Actors made it look so effortless; to talk while still crying. Unfortunately for Stiles, this was reality.

"No, that asshole is so _dead_!" Scott roared angrily, ready to hunt Derek down.

"Scott! Scott calm down it's my fault anyway. I guess I was too clingy and taking things too far… It's not his fault. So yeah, just let it go. I'll be fine.

"You're my best friend Stiles, I can't just let him do this. He knows how much you love him, he can't just all of a sudden break it off! First the ditching you, then the running off, and now this! This is the last straw. You don't deserve this Stiles," Scott finished, his voice going quiet towards the end.

"I do! I guess I'm just a huge burden. I dunno… It's not his fault!" Scott glared at Stiles. He didn't look convinced, but didn't press on. Stiles let out a sigh of relief, too drained to keep arguing.

"Alright, let's get you home, you need to rest. Have you been here all night?" Scott said.

"Scott, I can't stay there anymore. It's Derek's place, I was living with him. Can you just help me get all the stuff out of there? I'll crash at dad's till I find my own place," Stiles said, trudging off slowly in the direction of his Jeep, Scott by his side.

"Of course," Scott replied. "I still don't believe you're okay. You reek of sadness."

* * *

With Scott's help, the loft was clear of Stiles' things within the hour. It was early, and Derek hadn't been home. Stiles was partly glad, but at the same time he wished he could see Derek one last time.

They packed all of Stiles' belongings into his Jeep and Scott's car, everything surprisingly fitting. Stiles' hadn't realized how little he actually had; a couple bags of clothes and shoes, a bag of trinkets, his laptop and a box of photos and photography paraphernalia. The thing that took up the most room was a huge telescope, which Derek bought him for his birthday, after finding out his love of astronomy. They had spent so many nights, sitting silently while watching the night fold out in front of him. The pitch black hadn't brought fear and mystery, it had brought happiness and comfort.

It had hurt tearing down the huge wall of photos; as if the very memories associated with them were being packaged away into some dark corner of Stiles' mind, waiting to get dusty and forgotten. He decided to leave all the other things Derek and him had gotten together, like the kitchen appliances, curtains and the furniture. It's not like his father didn't have all that anyway.

As they carried the last bag of clothes out of the loft, Stiles couldn't help but mutter a quiet bye-bye under his breath. He'd grown so used to the open plan of the place. The huge wall of windows and the huge kitchen where he and Derek would so often cook. He'd miss it, but Derek was right. This had to be for the best, right? But where did he go wrong? What could he have done? Everything was fine just a few weeks ago, great in fact. With a sigh, he dumped the bag into the boot, and noticed he was getting a throbbing headache. Great. With that, he and Scott drove off toward the sheriff's house.

When they arrived, the sheriff barely managed to open the door before Stiles collapsed into his dad's arms, tears filling his eyes again.

"Son? What's going on?" a worried frown crossing his face.

"He left me, dad."

* * *

No matter how many little tricks Derek tried, sleep would not come. It was the first time in what seemed like forever that Stiles wasn't here sleeping next to him, not that they slept a lot. So many nights were spent talking about random thoughts that came to mind.

The clock read 4:19am. The wolf groaned in agony. He knew his mate would be waking up soon to head off to the station and 'tackle down any motherfucker that would dare to even _try_ outrun him' as Stiles put it from time to time. God, he missed him already. His eyes, his laugh, the smug grin. He missed Stiles delicious scent which filled the place and mixed with his. He missed the soft kisses and the rough kisses, and all the kisses in between. He missed the simple comfort the Stiles' presence brought to him.

Derek trudged to the kitchen and clumsily turned on the kettle. Reaching up to the cupboard, he took out two coffee mugs. He filled his with coffee, which he liked plain black. In the other, a teaspoon and a half of coffee along with several... many lumps of sugar. The kettle dimed while steam filled the kitchen around him. After making his drink, he half filled Stiles' with the scolding hot water. Slowly and steadily, he poured milk into the mug until it reached the brim. He smiled at the memory of making Stiles a coffee for the first time.

" _Coffee?" The simple question caused the younger man to look at Derek with disbelief._

" _You drink_ coffee _?" The wolf turned to Stiles, eyebrows raised. "Judging by the lift of your fantastically waxed eyebrows, I'm going to say that you do. I thought it wouldn't affect you. Being a werewolf and all." He had explained, voice filled with confusion._

" _Mmm. It doesn't affect me." Derek replied as if that explained everything. The look written across his boyfriend's face clearly asked for an elaboration. "When I was growing up, Mum always told us to fit in. One of her rules was if someone offers you coffee, you take it. It's what humans would do. For years, I hated the taste. Now, it's a habit. Part of the 'normal' human routine we were trained to do." Derek paused. "The taste also kinda grew on me," he added._

 _Derek looked down into the cups that were both made the same. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. Stiles may not of had super strength, but he still had quite a grip. Derek didn't do touching, which was strange since most werewolves were careless with hugs and touches. He would cringe when he had to shake someone's hand, squirm when old ladies pulled at his cheeks and stiffen when ladies tried to hug him. This time, he stayed exactly where he was. Content, relaxed in Stiles' arms. His partner lifted his head on Derek's shoulder, close to his ear._

" _More sugar please," Stiles whispered quietly earning a soft chuckle from Derek. He added half a teaspoon of sugar into his mug. "More," another spoonful was added. It was becoming quite absurd. "A little more bub." Stiles continued whispering in Derek's ear._

" _You're not going to be able to taste the coffee. It'll just be a hot drink that is ninety-nine percent sugar," Derek said in disbelief. Stiles just kept his goofy grin on his face. "Unbelievable."_

 _After making the coffees, Derek left his to cool while he watched Stiles closely, waiting for a reaction._

" _Mmmmm, Derek. So good," The older man blushed straight away, trying not to think of the compliment out of context. It didn't help when Stiles continued. "Just so perfect. Ughhhh." Derek felt the blood rushing below his hips. He tried thinking of old ladies naked, but that didn't block out the look on Stiles' face._

" _I think I get the point Sti." Derek spoke hoarsely, trying not to let his emotions into his voice._

" _Try it Der. You'll be amazed. I was certainly blown away by the use of your…" Stiles stopped mid sentence, smugly looking at Derek. "Barista skills." That little bastard, Derek thought. He knew exactly what he was doing. Two could play that game._

 _Picking up Stiles' mug, he looked straight into his amber eyes. Taking a big gulp, making sure he didn't break eye contact. Then he tasted the liquid._

" _Pffffttttt!" The coffee spurted out of Derek's mouth, all over Stiles. Sure he felt bad, but that had to be the worst coffee he had ever had. It didn't even taste like a coffee; just a heap of sugar. There went his attempt to look sexy. Derek slowly looked up at Stiles and his coffee stained t-shirt._

 _A roar of laughter came from his boyfriend's mouth. The two ended up on the floor, rolling around in a hysterical bout of laughter._

" _Derek," came Stiles' voice through the laughter. "I still think you're very sexy. In fact, when your cheeks went hollow it reminded me of-" Derek cut off his boyfriend's thoughts with a rough and animalistic kiss._

" _Maybe later."_

"Stiles! Your coffee's ready! Come and get it while it's hot." Derek shouted through the loft. There was no answer, only silence. He's gone. He's not home. Not here with him, hugging him from behind or quietly pondering at the table, waiting for his coffee. He hung his head, standing in the empty kitchen waiting for Stiles to appear through the door. But that didn't happen. Once again, he was alone of his life. Loneliness. What he thought he had outran when he was with Stiles.

"I miss you Sti."

* * *

Half an hour after arriving at his father's door, Stiles sat curled up on the couch, a warm cup of tea in his hand. He wasn't sobbing anymore, but sat staring at the T.V blankly, while his mind ran over the events of the past week. He knew it wasn't healthy to over-think everything like that, but he couldn't help it.

Where did he go wrong? What could he have done to cause this mess? And most of all, why did Scott see Derek so upset? He had broken it off himself. Stiles sighed and forced himself to pay attention to the show that was on. Something about the brown bears mating 's how his dad found him several hours later. Small and vulnerable.

"Are you okay, son?" He asked, concern written all over his face. Judging by his uniform, he'd just come back from the station.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll get over it," Stiles said, still staring at the T.V screen. There was a long pause. Stiles didn't feel like talking although he could practically hear his father's mind running with questions.

"Do you think you can go down and do your shift today? They miss you down there; stuck on several cases without your brilliant mind to help," His father added with an awkward laugh.

"Yeah, I guess I better get back to work and do something normal. I should probably sleep then, I have a headache." To tell the truth, Stiles' head had been hurting for the past week, but he wrote it off on stress.

He went to his old room, which hadn't changed since he'd been in it last; the same poster and curtains and blue walls jumped out at him. All Time Low posters were tacked messily on his walls alongside his Star Wars memorabilia. It even smelt slightly like his old cologne and sweaty t-shirts. He collapsed on his bed, missing the warmth of another body next to him, as he drifted off.

Some time later, the ringing of his alarm woke Stiles. He felt a lot better, and it probably was the most sleep he'd gotten in ages. The pounding in his head finally faded, and his body ached less. He got up with a groan.

Stiles glanced up at the clock, which read four o'clock. He had plenty of time to get ready and make it to his 4:30am shift. He stumbled clumsily into the kitchen, doing up his buttons before heating up the coffee. He'd never make it as good as Derek, but it would have to do. He'd miss Derek's coffees. He'd miss Derek.

On that thought, he climbed into his Jeep and drove to the station. He wouldn't get in trouble for being late as he was the sheriff's son, but it was respectful to keep up appearances and he shouldn't abuse the privilege.

When he finally got to the station, he was greeted by his work mates enthusiastically.

"Stiles! There you are! We were worried when you stopped showing up here. Sheriff told us you were going through a tough time with your relationship, you feeling okay?" Parrish beamed.

"You look like shit, Stilinski," Someone drawled. Jackson came around the corner, chewing on a sandwich.

"Hey, at least my hair still looks better than yours, and I haven't brushed it in a week. And it's," Stiles quickly glanced down at his watch, "4.45 in the morning. Wonder how you keep in shape when you're always stuffing your face with food" .That may have been an exaggeration, but it got Jackson to shut up. He scoffed and continued chewing his sandwich, probably stuffed with kale or some healthy green crap.

"It's nice to see you all again, but I better take the car out. I'm doing the highway patrol tonight, aren't I?" Stiles asked.

"Nah, we already sent someone down, but you should come look at this robbery, we have a few suspect but no clue who did it."

"Sure thing." Stiles said.

By the end of his shit the list had narrowed down to two suspects, but it'd have to wait till later to be check through. It felt good getting his mind off Derek and doing something he loved.

At 6:00am Stiles decided it was time to get back home and rest, his head was hurting again. Stiles made a mental note that he would have to visit Melissa to prescribe him some sort of magical medicine to stop his constant headaches.

"See ya Stilinski, good to see you around," Jackson responded, as Stiles waved his goodbyes.

* * *

 **So that's chapter four! I hope it's as good as Onyxia and I think it is! Just a quick note, there will be a lot of flashbacks to show the building of the relationship. We also both love Papa S as a character so we'll be writing him into the story quite a bit. Please favourite, follow or review. Thanks for reading!**


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